


Tension

by 2kitsune



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Confessions, Hurt/Comfort, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Sex, Knotting, M/M, Masturbation, Rough Sex, Rut, Scratching, Sex, Sexual Tension, Stomach Bulging, Tags will be updated, Voyeurism, a/b/o dynamics, they have issues, wet dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-08 21:14:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11090046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2kitsune/pseuds/2kitsune
Summary: Day 69 in deep space and Rocket was more than irritable. They had saved the world twice, collected the royalties that came with doing a public duty as such, and moved on with their lives. But Rocket had a problem, well, another problem on top of his current problem that was Peter Quill. His problem is that his fucking biology had decided to kick in when Rocket absolute could not get off of the ship, when usually he could escape for a couple of days and carry out his ‘animal instincts’.In simpler terms - Rocket’s rut had kicked in, making him cranky, irritable, but mostly just horny.





	Tension

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I feel like this took me two years to write, when in reality I was writing it since the day GOTG vol.2 came out, and it's taken me this long to finish. Lots of 3am writing took place, including me drinking far too much coffee and screaming at my laptop until this story finally came to fruition. This story initially started out as PWP, and somehow ended up of 11 - 12k of pure bullshit, along with some angst and some kinks added. You're welcome. 
> 
> I didn't have an editor for this fic. Hell, I never have editors. So, sorry if there's still mistakes littered around the fic, I tried my best, please feel free to come yell at me if there's any that are just unbearable - I'll appreciate it. 
> 
> *Additionally: So I didn’t rlly think about this properly, bc I stated in this fic that Rocket needs to knot to be able to get over his rut, and generally that means being inside of someone; however, I didn’t want to write Rocket topping Peter, so instead I just had Rocket being fucked and then he knots while he cums, and that makes his rut go away. Srry if it makes less sense.

Day 69 in deep space and Rocket was more than irritable. They had saved the world twice, collected the royalties that came with doing a public duty as such, and moved on with their lives. Well, Rocket had, and apart from the fact that when he was alone he couldn’t help but remember Yondu, he was fine. None of them had really sat down to talk after what had happened, to sort out their issues and get out their feelings, but most of the Guardians were used to bottling in feelings. And, although it wasn’t strictly healthy, Rocket wasn’t about to sit down and cry out his feelings to everyone.

 

No fucking thank you.

 

But that wasn’t what had made him irritable. Oh no, what had made him irritable is that his fucking biology had decided to kick in when Rocket absolute could not get off of the ship, when usually he could escape for a couple of days and carry out his ‘animal instincts’. In more simpler terms, Rocket’s rut had kicked in, making him cranky, irritable, but mostly just horny. It took him a great deal of self- control not to hump everything in sight, including the other Guardians, so Rocket just confined himself to his room to tinker with his bombs.

 

Jerking off didn’t even help. With a rut like his, Rocket needed something warm and compliant to sink his sex into, and give him a chance to knot; so, hands didn’t work, especially not his own. For a while Rocket had been tempted to ask, mostly jokingly, one of the other Guardians but at closer inspection Rocket decided that, that was a fucking stupid idea and shook it off.

 

Well, a stupid idea for all the Guardians except one. Peter Quill or, Star Lord, however you wanted to call him. Out of everyone Peter seemed like the least horrid idea, mostly because Rocket was sure that not only does Peter swing both ways, but he also has nothing against sleeping with species other than his own. Also, and Rocket would never admit this, he thought Peter wasn’t that bad looking; for a humie. If it came down to it Rocket wasn’t picky, and would gladly allow anyone into his bed to help satiate his needs, but if Peter offered; Rocket would probably take the offer.

 

Anyway, the fact that he was moody and irritable right now didn’t help that Peter seemed to be doing everything to annoy him; never mind that Rocket did whatever he could to annoy Peter too. They hadn’t sat down to talk about this silly rivalry they had, had lately; especially that time they had fought over who controlled the ship and ended up crash landing into a planet, or the arguments that followed. They seemed alright when fighting Ego, working together to kill the general evil, and their arguments had subsided a little, but that didn’t stop the occasional fights that broke out here and there; and the way it seemed oh so easy for Peter to get under Rocket’s skin.

 

This morning was no exception. Rocket had woken with fire under his fur, lava in his lower stomach, and sweat making his fur clump together. He was half hard against his mattress, rutting down mindlessly in his sleep, and as he lay there somewhere in the middle of sleep and wakefulness, it didn’t take many more ruts downwards before Rocket’s hips stuttered, a high-pitched whine escaping his lips, and he came with sleep still clinging to his limbs. It helps satiate him for a good ten minutes, but it felt like milliseconds to Rocket, long enough for him to escape sleeps embrace and make it to the shower to wash the evidence of his release from his fur.

 

No one commented as he slinked into the ships general area ten minutes late, continuing with whatever task they were currently doing. Gamora, who was still in her sleep shirt but was at least wearing her usual pants, waved him good-morning with her spoon, mouth full of cereal. Rocket nodded briefly in her directions as he continued to the kitchen to grab his own breakfast, which wasn’t much, just one of the Terran bars that Peter had picked up last time they were there, and coffee. To start with the others weren’t so sure if Rocket should be drinking Coffee, but he drank alcohol without any problems than a hangover in the morning; plus, he wasn’t a kid.

 

Peter walked in just as Rocket was finishing his coffee, sleep pants low on his hips and no shirt on. The Terran was more than comfortable to walk around half naked, or sometimes even completely naked. To start with it had made everyone else a little uncomfortable, but they had gotten used to it when Peter refused to dress more appropriately; “It’s my ship,” he had said. “I can dress how I want.” When Mantis had chosen to join their team, with Ego gone there was nowhere really for her to go, it had taken her a little while to not blush when Peter walked around shirtless, but she was soon over it too.

 

Rocket was over it too. Ahuh, completely and utterly over it. That’s why he buried his snout more into his coffee, averting his gaze as Peter walked past, the dimples in his back prominent. His rut made him more susceptible to Peter walking half naked, but it wasn’t until Peter had walked past and Rocket had accidently gotten a whiff of his scent that made Rocket shift in his seat, groaning quietly into his coffee cup. Still, the scent of sex clouded Rocket’s head, filling his sense of smell, giving Peter’s morning activities away. And, seeing as everyone was already in the kitchen, Rocket could only assume Peter dealt with himself alone.

 

“Who finished off all the milk!?” Peter suddenly yelled from the kitchen. Rocket jumped at the sudden noise, his sense of hearing sensitive, whipping his head around to witness Peter storming out of the kitchen area, the empty jug of milk held up in one hand and fire in his eyes. “If you finish it you’re supposed to put another bottle in the fridge! Come on guys, we have that rule for this exact reason.”

 

He turns his gaze to Gamora but she simply raises an eyebrow. “It was not me.” She says, that’s all she has to say, because Peter immediately turns his attention to someone else; that someone else being Rocket, and the racoon stiffened under Peter’s gaze. He was the one who finished off the milk, but there was no way in hell that he’d admit that, his pride was to strong.

 

“Wasn’t me either,” Rocket lies, and takes a sip from his coffee. “Maybe Drax drunk it.”

 

Peter’s gaze flicks briefly to Drax, who had so far been sitting in the corner crunching away at whatever he had for breakfast, before quickly coming back to Rocket. Although they were all friends Peter still preferred not to yell at Drax, whether it be because he didn’t want to start conflict with one of the strongest crew members on the ship and have Drax fly off with rage and destroy something on the ship, or possibly because he didn’t want to end up on the other end of a punch from Drax.

 

“Rocket,” Peter says, voice quiet but dangerous. It makes the fur along Rocket’s spine stand up, member unsheathing in his pants, but he keeps his same neutral expression. “You’re drinking coffee, I think it’s pretty obvious who used the last of the milk.”

 

Rocket sighs, taking his sweet while in placing his mug back on the table and looks up, cocking an eyebrow as he went. “Oh, is it?” He asks sarcastically. “It ain’t obvious for me. In fact, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Behind him Rocket’s pretty sure he hears someone groan, probably because they know exactly how this was going to turn out and is already figuring out the best course of action to disengage them. But oh no, Rocket was already committed in this argument, determined not to admit it was him. It doesn’t help that is cock is still poking out from its sheath, creating a bulge in his standard uniform pants. Sue him, fighting kind of turns him on.

 

“Dude,” Peter says in that same quiet voice, already sounding so exasperated and done for 9am in the morning Terran time. “Just admit you drank it so that we can move on.” He comes forward, placing the milk jug on the table in front of Rocket, and leans over the table heavily. This close Rocket has an even better view of Peter’s bare upper half, of his sharp hipbones peeking out from over the top of his sleep pants. Normally a humie doesn’t even gain the slightest of Rocket, but there was something about Peter; or maybe it was just because of his heat and nothing else.

 

Sighing Rocket pushes the jug carton back towards Peter, feigning innocence and trying his damn hardest not to smirk when the vein in Peter’s forehead starts sticking out. “It wasn’t me,” Rocket reiterates, biting back the shit eating grin that threatens to form on his lips. “How many times do I gotta’ say it, Quill?”

 

“Alright!” Peter slaps his hands down. He looks furious now, actually furious, and all because of some milk. In fact, it kind of irritated Rocket to see how angry Peter got just because of some milk, and he felt his own fur stand on edge a little. Of course, it still wasn’t short of hilarious. “I’m sick of you doing things and then not coming clean! We’re a team, Rocket, and that means we work together, even if it’s just for replacing milk.”

 

Rocket slowly, keeping eye contact with Peter, stands up on his seat. What had started off as amusement had actually made him mad, heat spiking in his veins. His cock was most definitely unsheathed now, and it was amazing that no one had noticed. Stupid fucking heats, making him angry but horny at the exact same time; what kind of bullshit was that?

 

“And I’m sick of you, period.” Rocket growls. And, in a fit of childish rage, and because his gun wasn’t close enough, knocks over his mug, spilling some luke warm coffee over Peter’s hands. “It’s milk, stop getting your fuckin’ panties in a bunch and just go get some more.”

 

Peter goes to open his mouth. But if he was about to start yelling, or even screaming, Rocket would never know; because it’s just at that moment that Gamora decides she’s had enough.

 

“Alright, that’s enough!” She yells, startling both men enough that they stop yelling and turn to look at her. Rocket’s seen her mad plenty of times, and for lots of different reasons, but he’s never seen her look so angry because of their yelling. “I’m sick of your squabbling like little kids! I’ll replace the milk.”

 

“Gam-“ Peter starts, but Gamora shoots him a look and he stops in his tracks. Rocket watches as Peter slowly straightens, shoots Rocket a death glare, at which the racoon just smirks back at, and turns to saunter back into the kitchen for breakfast. His own erection had subsided as Rocket sat down, staring down at the spilt coffee on the table. As soon as the fighting had ended Rocket’s anger had subsided, and now instead of being angry at Peter, he was just angry at himself.

 

“This is fucking stupid.” He growls to himself and slides off of the bench, leaving the spilt coffee and the wrapper for the bar he had been eating on the table, and turns to leave. No one stops him from doing so, although Mantis looks like she wants to say something if the looks she shoots Rocket just before he disappears around the corner means anything. Soon Rocket’s alone, and he strides back down the corridors towards his room. Looks like it was going to be another day of tinkering with his bombs, and trying anything to make this heat in his stomach subside.

 

“He’s just so fucking arrogant,” Rocket’s telling Groot as he sits on the floor of his cabin, quick hands moving over his latest weapon. “If I knew I was going to have to deal with such a dickhead, I would never have joined the fuckin’ Guardians of the Galaxy or whatever.”

 

“I am Groot.”

 

Rocket’s snarl falters, flicking into a frown, but his hands continue as though they’re not his own. “I don’t care if he’s saved the world twice,” He says, turning his head to look at Groot on his shoulder, eyes narrowing. “Whose side are you on anyway? We all saved the world, not just him and his damn inflated ego.” Turning back to his work Rocket finds that he’s put the wrong things together as he talked to Groot, and drops the project completely, ignoring the harsh thud it makes when it hits the floor.

 

“I am Groot.”

 

“Yeah, I know, you’re on my side.”

 

“I am Groot.”

 

Rockets cheeks flush, although you can’t tell because of his fur. However, Groot still noticed the way his body tensed up, and offered a cheeky little smile. “No, I’m not fuckin’ picking fights because of my – rut,” He grumbles, but the way his voice dropped at the end to an almost whisper proved instantly that he was lying, before returning to normal pitch. “Peter just fuckin’ pisses me off, you know that.”

 

“I am Groot.”

 

“Whatever,” Rocket mumbles, suddenly feeling tired and worn out. Sighing he picks Groot up off of his shoulder and places him on the ground, nudging the small sentient tree to move when he looks up at Rocket with wide eyes. “Go on and find someone else to play with, I’m a little distracted today buddy.” It makes him feel bad to just kick Groot out, but he couldn’t focus and he wouldn’t forgive himself if he snapped at Groot, the only one who Rocket didn’t mind being open too.

 

Groot stares at him a little longer with those big brown eyes, mouth held open, before finally nodding and replying, “I am Groot.” Before turning to exit Rocket’s room. Rocket had installed a little door in his own door that Groot could press a button and be let out, sort of like those cat doors that Peter had told him about oh so long ago. Rocket stands there just and watches just to make sure that Groot manages to get out, and once the door slid shut behind Groot, Rocket turned to slump down on his own bed.

 

Of course, Rocket doesn’t get a moments peace before someone’s knocking on his door, startling him. Cursing Rocket raises his head to look towards his door, weighting the possibility of ignoring whoever it was and just dealing with the situation later; but when another knock came, a little more urgent this time, Rocket sighed and slowly pushed himself up again.

 

A third knock had him calling out, “Ok, ok, hang on for one fuckin’ minute.” Grumbling Rocket pressed the button that opens his door, but steps back a little when he sees who it is. Mantis is standing in the corridor, looking at him expectantly, her antenna swaying side to side. To start with she had freaked him out, with her big eyes and the way she just _stared_. She still freaked him out a little to this day with her staring, it made him uncomfortable to be looked at like she was examining every single aspect of his person, but by now Rocket was a little more used to it.

 

“Can I come in?” Mantis asks when Rocket doesn’t say anything, looking at the racoon expectantly. As a second thought her lips pull back into a smile, but it didn’t really help.

 

“Stop smilin’ it’s creepy,” Rocket says outright, watching as Mantis’s face instantly falls into a more neutral expression. Of course, her eyes still stay far too wide, but there was nothing Rocket could do about that without asking her to close them. “Why do you wanna’ come in? I’m busy.” A lie, of course, and Mantis would know that if she touched him, but he really didn’t feel like company right now; sue him. As an after- thought Rocket crosses his arms over his chest.

 

“I wanted to talk about your relationship with Peter,” Mantis says outright, making Rocket start. She carries on oblivious, head cocked slightly to the side as he looks at him. “It’s obvious there’s great rage between you two, and I’d like to help,” God, she was even fucking nodding, stepping forward slightly in her eagerness and Rocket steps back, irrationally afraid that she’d be able to tell his emotions without even touching him. “I already asked Peter, and he told me no. So, I’m hoping you’ll say yes.”

 

Fuck, she looked so hopeful, looking at Rocket with those big eyes. But, there was no way Rocket was going to allow her in. ‘Talking’ wasn’t his strong point, he was more of a shoot first ask questions later kind of guy, and he guessed Mantis would just have to learn that the hard way. He looks down to ruffle the fur at the back of his head, letting out a deep sigh before looking at Mantis again.

 

“I’m really fuckin’ busy,” He says, and watches her face fall. All he wanted to be left alone to suffer, and try not to hump everything in sight because of his rut; and if that meant he had to be a little mean, so be it. “We can talk another time. How ‘bout you go try Star Dork again.”

 

“Star Dork-“ Mantis repeats, looking lost. “Oh! You mean Peter,” She was smiling again, and Rocket’s head spun a little from how quickly her expressions seem to change. “Ok, I’ll try and go talk to Peter again. Thank you, Rocket.” With that she leaves without another look back, heading to where Peter’s quarters were, not that Rocket knew off by heart where that was; finally leaving Rocket alone.

 

As soon as the door is closed Rocket’s back on his bed, laying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. An uncomfortable pressure had been growing between his hips as he had been tinkering, and as he had talked to Mantis, and Rocket didn’t want anyone seeing him like that. It was also far too hot in his room, whether or not that was solely due to his rut Rocket wasn’t sure, and he sits up to shed his uniform shirt, yanking it too roughly over his head and getting it caught on his ears, before throwing it on the ground and not looking where it went.

 

The press of his cybernetics against the bed, no matter how soft it was, still hurt a little, but Rocket preferred it over the almost unbearable rising heat spreading through his body. It was only so long he could pretend to be sane, well, as sane as he was usually, before the heat took over his thought process and Rocket would turn almost animalistic in his desperateness to get off with someone. Knowing full well that jerking off didn’t help, Rocket still allowed his hand to dip to his groin; at least it got the edge off, a little.

 

-

 

Another fight a day later, one that neither Rocket nor Peter actually remember was about, has the two forcibly separated and sent to separate ends of the ship to cool down. Of course, Rocket didn’t actually stay at his end of the ship, slinking off when Drax wasn’t paying full attention to where he was to escape to his room and totally not sulk; sulk? Not him. The thing was that his rut was getting worse, and seeing as by now Rocket was usually able to slink off and find pleasure somewhere else, he wasn’t able too; meaning that he had to just let his rut ride itself out and wait until it was over.

 

Which was absolute hell, if you were wondering.

 

Rocket spent the rest of the day, when he was finally allowed to come out, could you believe someone had stationed Gamora outside his door? Like he needed babysitting or some bullshit, he was a grown man – ah, well, racoon, stomping around the base snapping at anyone who looked at him too long. Which, in turn, resulted in Mantis nearly being bitten, really how had she thought trying to _touch_ him was going to go after last time, and Gamora nearly starting her own fight with him. Thankfully she was smarter, this once.

 

He didn’t see Peter, thank god. Rocket wasn’t sure if maybe Peter was also in his own quarters, hiding, or if they just didn’t happen to be in the same place at the same time. The ship wasn’t that big, so Rocket wasn’t sure how they didn’t see each other at all. Not that he wanted to see Peter, he could go a lifetime without ever seeing that dumb Terran’s face again, Rocket had told himself; but if he really believed that or not would yet to be revealed.

 

Despite having saved the world twice, and for a group called ‘The Guardians of the Galaxy’ it was surprising how dumb they were. For some reason, the others found a solid plan in leaving Rocket and Peter alone on the ship as they stopped at a planet for re- fueling. It had been explained to Rocket as a time for him and Peter to talk out their problems, but all Rocket heard was ‘We’re leaving you alone to either talk or fight. It doesn’t matter which, as long as you sort out the problem.’ Or, something along those lines, if the look Gamora had given him as she, Drax, Groot, and Mantis exited the ship and disappeared, meant anything.

 

But, Rocket had no plans to talk. He didn’t want to even look at Peter, not while his rut was very much still active. Instead he decided to burn off some steam, grabbing his absolute biggest gun before heading towards the training room. It had been upgraded since their latest endeavors, meaning a full padded floor and bulletproof walls, with holograms that popped up that you had to shoot. Rocket had beat the highest setting only a couple of months after it was finished, and now used it mainly as he was now, to blow off steam.

 

He had just started getting it, beating level after level, shedding his shirt halfway through because the heat from the exercise plus the heat that was already rushing through his veins were making things harder than necessary. Not to mention that he had been unsheathed since the fourth round, now on the tenth, and had only grown harder and harder in his pants until the bulge there would be impossible to miss if someone were to walk in. It wasn’t his fault that violence turned him on, it took everything for him not to pop boners when he was on missions with the others, but in here where no one could see him, Rocket just let it happen.

 

On the 25th round, someone walked in. Seeing as this wasn’t even the hard part yet, Rocket looked over to see who it was, and promptly froze, staring up at Peter with a confused expression on his face. The familiar sound that the machine made when you died bought Rocket out of his staring, and he whipped his head around to look at the computer angrily, only angered further when he saw the words ‘You died’ on the screen. It prompts him to raise his gun, take aim, ignore Peter’s shout, and shoot.

 

“Nice going Rocket!” Peter’s voice comes through the red haze that had filled his head, stopping him from having any rational thought. He growls, turning around to shout something equally as stupid back at Peter, to tell him to stop interfering in his life or whatever and that he was a grown man, but the words die in his mouth when he sees Peter just standing there staring down at something.

 

He looks down to and, oh, fuck. Rocket shifts, clearing his throat, and rotates his body away from Peter, trying to make the bulge in his pants less obvious. He hadn’t meant for Peter to see him like this, he hadn’t even expected the Terran to come in here. And yet there Peter was, standing there with wide eyes and his mouth hanging slightly open, breathing the same stupid air that Rocket was breathing. Hell, Rocket could even see Peter’s brain working to try and come up with something; he wouldn’t even be surprised if he saw smoke coming out from Peter’s ears.

 

“Uh,” Peter finally starts, breaking the silence, eyes suddenly coming up to meet Rocket’s like he had just realized how long he had been standing there, staring at his teammates obvious erection. Rocket crosses his arms over his chest as Peter shakes his head, cheeks flushing a little pink. “I came to talk to you.”

 

Rocket huffs, shaking his head, and shifts his gun so that it’s resting over his shoulder. “Well, I don’t want to talk to you,” He says back, ignoring the little voice in the back of his head saying that he was being childish. Now that he had stopped moving the heat was back, making Rocket shift a little on his feet. He wasn’t going to be able to stand here and have a full conversation with Peter, no matter how much the Terran wanted too or not. “Leave, now,” Rocket demands, not leaving any option for bargaining in his voice, and when Peter frowned Rocket hastily added. “I’m busy, Quill.” But not to spare Peter’s feelings, oh no, definitely not.

 

“Yeah, I can see that,” Peter murmurs to himself, probably hoping he was speaking quietly enough for Rocket not to hear him. Rocket does, of course he does his hearing is far better than any Terran’s, same as his sense of smell. Before Rocket could speak up, say something stupid like ‘what did you say’ and then they’d just end up in another fucking argument, which really wasn’t a great idea seeing as Rocket was holding a gun. “I think we should talk, spare a couple of minutes?” Says Peter, giving Rocket a cheesy smile like that would help.

 

Rocket stares at Peter, long enough for the Terran male to shift on his feet and tug at the collar of his shirt, long enough for Peter to break eye contact and awkwardly look at his feet. It brings Rocket some odd sense of pride to be able to get Peter uncomfortable enough to break eye contact, mostly because it implied an undercurrent of fear.

 

“No, I can’t spare a couple ‘o minutes, not everything revolves around you,” Rocket finally says, turning away from Peter to wander over to the weapon racks to reload his gun and get back into the training simulation. But, it seems like Peter had other plans, because Rocket suddenly finds an arm around his bicep, holding him in place and stopping him from moving. Rocket whirls around, all teeth and snarling, and stares Peter down; noting how the Terran flinched back at Rocket’s display. He didn’t like to be touched, everyone knew that, and so with Peter not only touching him but also holding him in place, it made him snap. Unluckily for him the touch also sent an unwanted heat flush throughout Rocket’s body, cock slipping a little out of its’ sheath.

 

“Sorry,” Peter’s immediately apologizing, and he even looks sorry, but he doesn’t let go of Rocket’s arm. “I just really think should talk,” He pauses to hurriedly look at his own hand on Rocket’s arm, before continuing. “I would also prefer it if you didn’t bite my hand off because I’m touching you, I’m kind of emotionally attached to that hand, we’ve had a lot of good times.” He’s babbling, obviously nervous, and Rocket softens the tiniest amount; just the smallest amount, not enough for Peter to notice.

 

“If you let go of me right now,” Rocket replies slowly, carefully, making sure every syllable is pronounced perfectly to make sure Peter understood him. Instantly the hand on his arm loosened, and Peter let go, dropping his hand back to his side. He’s in a kneeling position, from having to get so low to grab Rocket. “Ok, you can have five minutes. But-“ Peter opens his mouth to talk, and Rocket shoots him a look, raising a finger as a warning. “Then you gotta’ leave me the fuck alone. Deal?”

 

“Ok, cool, good, I’m glad we got that sorted,” Peter mumbles, rubbing at the back of his head. Rocket shoots him a forced smile, bordering on the edge of sarcastic, waiting for Peter to hurry up and say whatever else he was going to say; whatever else he wanted to talk about. But, Peter had fallen silent, just standing there staring at Rocket with an almost confused expression, like he wanted Rocket to say something when it had been him who had insisted they talk.

 

Rocket runs his hands over his eyes, sighing, and shoots Peter a look. “So are you gonna’ fucking say something? Or are we just gonna’ stand ‘ere with our dicks out?” and oh god Peter actually looked down like his dick was out. Never, in his life, had Rocket wanted to punch someone more than he wanted to punch Peter in that moment; and that was saying a lot considering his personality.

 

When Peter looks up again, meeting Rocket’s eye, he’s got this faint flush on his cheeks that the racoon literally wanted to scratch off of his face. “Uh, no,” Peter replies, a stupid smile playing on his lips. There were a lot of things about Peter that were stupid right now; but, then again, he looked stupid most of the time. “We should probably talk about how we’ve been fighting so much lately, and how to fix it.” At his sides Peter held his away from his body, palms out, but Rocket can’t help but think it’s a little condescending; like Peter thought he was just going to go straight to fighting. I mean, he probably would, but that’s beside the point.

 

So Rocket raises his head a little higher, male pride filling his chest, and looks Peter in the eye. “The problem is you,” he says outright, ignoring the crestfallen expression that immediately appears on the humans’ face. “You always have to be in fuckin’ charge of everything. It pisses me off, Quill.” In the back of his mind Rocket’s aware he’s being pretty harsh, and that maybe it wasn’t completely true, but he’s been meaner to his fellow Guardians on more than one occasion.

 

“I’m the one who always has to be in charge of things?” Peter repeats, eyebrows raising. And, oh god, was he mad? What the fuck did he have to be mad about, he was the problem in this situation, not Rocket. Throwing his arms up, Peter adds, “Are you kidding me right now? You’re the one who’s always interrupting me, taking over things, and picking fights whenever you can and _I’m_ the one who always has to be in charge?” in the midst of talking he places his hands on his hips and bends at the waist, although he knows it annoys Rocket when people do that.

 

Rocket folds his arms over his chest, “Yes, you’re the one who always has to be in charge. And I’m not the one who picks fights, you pick them just so ya’ can seem cooler ‘t Gamora, everyone knows that you wanna’ fuck her.” Ok, maybe that also wasn’t 100% true, Rocket didn’t know for sure if Peter wanted to get into Gamora’s pants, the guy did pay a lot of attention to the inhabitants of the planets they visit; but, if this was turning into a fight then Rocket wanted the upper hand.

 

A pink flush finds its’ way across Peter’s cheeks. “I do not want to ‘get into Gamora’s pants’,” He says, but whether that was really true or not Rocket would never know. “And I don’t pick fights for her sake, I pick fights because you’re insufferable sometimes, Rocket.”

 

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t be insufferable if I didn’t have to share a spaceship with you.”

 

“Oh is that it?” Peter asks, bending over further. It does nothing more than irritate Rocket further, and that same heat is slowly getting hotter and hotter as it spreads down in his spine, accumulating partially in his groin. Okay, he officially needed to get out of here, preferably soon. But, seeing as everything seemed to be going wrong for Rocket today, it was hardly a surprise that Peter was blocking the door, preventing Rocket from escaping easily.

 

“Well, if I’m _so_ insufferable why don’t you just get off at the next planet, Rocket!?”

 

That makes Rocket start a bit, but he bites back with just as much force. “Ya know what!?” he yells, beyond the point of done with this whole situation, and steps forwards, pleased to see that Peter nearly steps back before he catches himself and stands his ground. Big mistake. “If it would please you so much, Star- Dork, then maybe I fuckin’ will! Good luck piloting this piece of shit ship without me here, though!”

 

There’s a vein in Peter’s neck that’s sticking out as he leans down that final inch, to come face to face with Rocket. “I’ve been piloting this spaceship for years before you came around! I think I can continue piloting it without our resident trash- panda around!”

 

Rocket snarls, “You take that back.”

 

Peter smirks, smug. “No.”

 

The two stare at each other, waiting for the other to say some but also wanting to be the first one to speak. Suddenly though, Rocket realizes how close they are, Peter’s nose nearly brushing against the end of Rocket’s snout. The heat clinging to Rocket’s spine and shoulders spikes, which then makes Rocket shift on his feet, his pants feeling oddly tight. God, the stupid fucking humie and his lack of understanding about personal space, Rocket could just; could just, _oh_.

 

It seems that Peter had been thinking the same. That, or Rocket had just missed the way his eyes kept flicking from Rocket’s eyes to his lips and back; or, maybe Rocket was too busy doing the same, flicking between Peter’s blue eyes and his pink lips. Hell, Rocket’s not even sure really who moved first, but now they’re both kissing and fuck, Rocket’s never felt so _on fire_ in his life.

 

It’s a little awkward considering Rocket had a snout, and Peter a normal working mouth, but the two make it work. As Peter flicked his tongue out, licking across Rocket’s lips, the two lost balance and surged back against the wall with a loud thump, Rocket accidentally biting down on Peter’s lip and drawing a little blood but he doesn’t apologize, just crowds Peter in as best as he can with his body. As Peter slides his legs open to allow Rocket closer he also makes work of his jacket, shoving it off of himself and throwing it to the side with barely concealed need as Rocket slides his paws into the sandy blond’s hair.

 

Peter’s slouched against the wall so it’s far too easy for Rocket to climb into his lap, standing with his feet on either of Peter’s thighs. Like this his erection prodded against Peter’s chest, and Rocket grunts into Peter’s mouth when it provides some much-needed friction against his aching member. With the heat from his rut rushing through his veins everything was that much more sensitive, meaning that the feeling of Peter’s finger slowly beginning to trek across his hips makes Rocket groan and flick them forwards.

 

“Fuck, eager much.” Peter mutters against Rocket’s lips, pulling back enough to speak before returning to his exploration of Rocket’s mouth; but then contradicts himself, his own fingertips grip at Rocket a little tighter, keeping the raccoon as close to his own chest as possible.

 

Rocket grinds against Peter’s chest, growling “Fuck you – “ against Peter’s lips but then the sandy blond’s hand came forwards from Rocket’s hip to palm over his dick and Rocket hisses, “oh- _shit_.” Nails digging into Peter’s scalp as the sandy blond works his hand over Rocket’s dick. He’s absolutely already dripping pre- cum, he can feel the familiar wetness of cloth clinging to the head of his cock, and when Peter runs his hand over the slit Rocket’s so sensitive electricity shoots through his veins.

 

And normally Rocket has a strict no touching rule, with the exception of Groot, so it’s completely unlike him to be allowing Peter to be doing this, to press his hips against Rocket and try to thrust into Peter’s hand. Of course, he knows it’s because of his rut, but Rocket can’t help but feel that even if his rut wasn’t present he would still be allowing this to happen. Still, Rocket keeps kissing Peter, keeps pressing further and further into him until there’s almost no space for Peter’s hand at all but still Peter keeps at it.

 

Peter moves from just playing with the head of Rocket’s cock, thumb sliding over the slit and collecting a faint dampness on the pad of his thumb, to loosely circling his hand around Rocket’s cock and beginning to stroke, chuckling into Rocket’s mouth when the raccoon groans and grinds his cock into the feeling, and Rocket retaliates with a bite to Peter’s bottom lip; hard enough to draw blood. But, Peter doesn’t pull back, just bites back, sliding his tongue over the wound when Rocket grunts.

 

The fire in Rocket’s body just seemed to keep growing, the pressure in his stomach almost uncomfortable at this point. “Fuckin’ hurry up,” He eventually growls to Peter, pulling back a little so that he can speak, flicking his hips forwards to accentuate his need, “I’ll be grey by tha’ time ya’ even suck me off.” He’s almost shaking with need as he slips his hands onto Peter’s shoulders, digging his nails in so deep it breaks through Peter’s thin grey shirt and his skin.

 

There’s a glint in Peter’s eye as he takes his hand away from Rocket’s crotch, one that Rocket had come to associate with the sandy haired man being up to something. “I better hurry up then, huh?” Asks Peter, raising an eyebrow, and starts for the zipper on Rocket’s jumpsuit; thankfully, Rocket hadn’t put on any armor, so only just jumpsuit stood in the way. It’s a little difficult, considering the you had to undo the whole front to get any part of it off, but Peter’s nimble fingers closed around the zipper first go and tugs, and both men let out a sigh of relief when it unzips on the first go.

 

Rocket’s blue jumpsuit is hurriedly pushed off of his body, Peter’s nimble fingers being mindful of the cybernetics on his back despite the frenzied pace they had already established. However, neither male have the patience to disconnect far enough to pull the jumpsuit properly off, and so once Peter’s exposed Rocket’s dick it’s left to pool around Rocket’s calves.

 

Peter’s hand is hot when he takes Rocket again, stroking firmly over the discolored skin. The scientists that had experimented with Rocket had also made some changes to his cock, despite there really being no reason to do so, making it fuller in appearance, more like a humies, but still colored the same brown as his fur. Growling low in his throat Rocket pushes his hips into the feeling, fucking the loose ring of fingers that Peter was offering, shoving his face into the crook of Peter’s neck and biting the skin when Peter suddenly twists his hand, stimulating his sensitive head.

 

“I’m not fuckin’ saying it again,” Rocket bites at the junction between Peter’s neck and shoulder, ignoring Peter’s indignant cry. But, just as he goes to say something else because Peter was still taking far too fucking long, and Rocket really would like to get his dick sucked some-time today, Peter rolls his eyes and bends down enough that he can flick his tongue out over the head of Rocket’s cock. Rocket’s head falls back as soon as he feels Peter’s warm tongue, mouth opening and tongue lolling out, “Oh yeah.” Escaping his lips as he fists his paws into Peter’s hair.

 

There’s no hesitation as Peter sinks lower, taking Rocket into his mouth. It’s hot, and warm, and wet, and Rocket rolls his hips up into the feeling, sharp nails digging into Peter’s scalp. There’s a tongue flicking over his slit and Peter slides down, down, down, taking all of Rocket into his mouth with seemingly no problem; faintly Rocket wonders how often Peter does this, but then is quickly distracted when Peter flicks his tongue just under the head of his cock, hitting that sensitive spot that makes Rocket briefly lose the ability to breathe. In fact, all he could do was fruitlessly cling closer to Peter, cursing how much of a quick learner Peter was as he flicks over the same spot on Rocket’s cock.

 

At some point one of Peter’s hands migrate from Rocket’s hip to his balls, tugging at them gently and rolling them in his hand. When Rocket goes solo he does the same kind of action, and he’s too surprised at the sudden touch from Peter to do anything but growl in the back of his throat, flicking his hips up in the tight, wet, heat of Peter’s mouth. He’s quickly getting closer to an orgasm, perhaps maybe a little faster than Rocket would like for it to happen, probably because of his rut, and so he’s eager to move on to Peter being inside of him. Rocket wouldn’t admit it aloud, that he’s wanted Peter inside of him for a while, but it looked like it was finally going to happen. Rocket’s not even sure if he can knot from that, which is what needs to happen for his rut to finally be sated, but Rocket wouldn’t mind having to try a couple of different things to finally get there; not at all.

 

Peter’s other hand is suddenly sliding backwards from his hip, sliding dangerously close to his cybernetics, something that Rocket still was averse to being touched in the heat of the moment, but misses and instead slides down to the cleft of Rocket’s ass. Rocket pretends like he doesn’t know what he’s doing when he presses back against it, feeling the surprised moan from Peter as it makes the sandy blond’s throat vibrate around his growing sensitive cock.

 

“Ya’ need lube,” Rocket growls against Peter’s shoulder blades, because the sandy blond’s finger had dipped dangerously close to his twitching entrance, and it’d been too long since the last time Rocket had something up his ass for an absence of lube. Peter had stilled as Rocket started talking, and slowly pulled off of the raccoons’ cock, forcing Rocket to straighten up too. It was a little awkward being this close to Peter, they had been in the heat of the moment now and this brief lull between pleasure made Rocket a little uncomfortable knowing that mouth had been around his cock seconds ago. It doesn’t last long, as Peter’s quickly removing his hand from Rocket’s balls to reach into his own pocket, pulling out a small tube of lube.

 

Rocket quells the question that scatters up this throat. A second later there’s the ‘click’ of the bottle being opened, Rocket just picking up the sound of lube being squirted onto fingers, and then Peter’s fingers seem to be circling back around his entrance in record time. Rocket starts a little in surprise of how quickly Peter’s fingers are back on him, hands coming up to clasp Peter’s shoulders, nails digging through Peter’s shirt, and pushes his snout into the sandy blond’s neck to stop Peter from watching the way Rocket’s mouth falls open, tongue lolling out.

 

When Peter’s finger finally pushes inside of him Rocket let’s out a surprised groan, nipping at Peter’s neck to stop any other unwanted sound from escaping his lips. Peter lets’ out a sort of apologetic sound back, jostling Rocket away from his neck as he dips down again to wrap his lips around the head of Rocket’s cock. It’s more than welcome, because just a single finger inside of him already feels like too much, and Rocket isn’t sure how he’s going to manage the next three fingers he’s going to need for Peter’s dick; if the large bulge in Peter’s pants is enough to give away his size. Focusing on the feeling of Peter’s mouth around him helps with the slight burn of the sandy blond’s fingers, and Rocket doesn’t feel much more than a little added pressure when Peter pushes in a second finger. However, Rocket does feel it when Peter presses in deeper, and deeper still, before beginning to scissor, startling Rocket enough that he bites a little too hard into Peter’s neck; surprisingly Peter doesn’t pull off of him, doesn’t make any motion that implies it hurt him, but still Rocket’s present enough to lick apologetically over the wound.

 

The third finger has Rocket pushing back against the digit. He had started to enjoy the burn, and the mouth around his cock loosens, letting Rocket push back against his finger and into his mouth at the same time. It’s almost too much, but Rocket holds desperately to Peter’s shoulder’s like he’s afraid to fall. He’s about to ask if they really need another finger, mostly because by now Rocket was almost getting desperate to have Peter inside of him, but it’s quickly forgotten when Peter pushes his fourth finger alongside the other three. A high-pitched sound, one that Rocket will deny making later, escapes the raccoons mouth as he holds on, fingers digging so deep that blood is drawn to the surface.

 

Peter’s pushing deeper and deeper with every inward thrust of his fingers, brushing along Rocket’s sensitive skin. Rocket’s never been able to push in deep enough by himself to hit his prostate, and he’s never been fucked deep enough for it to be hit either, but he’s almost positive that Peter’s going to press deep enough with just his fingers and find it. A second later his second is proven correct, and the sound that escapes his lips is loud enough to probably be heard throughout the entire ship, the fire in his veins gathering in pitch, roaring through his body as he shudders and clenches around Peter’s finger.

 

Peter’s stopped completely, and when Rocket pulls away from the safety of Peter’s neck he finds the sandy blond staring at him with wide eyes. “I’m gonna need fuckin’ inside me like- now,” Rocket clears his throat, glad that Peter would never be able to see the blush along his cheeks because of his fur. “Hell, I needed ‘ya inside me like a week ago, you’re that fuckin’ slow.” It’s Peter’s turn to turn faintly pink now, but it’s ruined by the way he rolls his eyes and lightly slaps Rocket’s hip with is free hand, pulling the fingers inside of Rocket out, and the both of them wince at the wet sound it makes.

 

Before Peter could even reach to undo his pants, fingers still slick with lube, Rocket’s climbing off of Peter’s lap and stands between them, reaching for Peter’s zipper himself. With his small, but dexterous fingers, Rocket easily undoes Peter’s belt and zipper in a matter of seconds, freeing the sandy blond’s cock and watching it come up to slap against Peter’s shirt. Rocket tries not to stare but he absolutely is, surprised at how much bigger than Rocket he was, though Peter is a human and Rocket is a cybernetically enhanced raccoon so of course Peter’s cock would be bigger, and also faintly wondering how on earth all of Peter was going to fit inside of him. He had been worked open more than he usually would to be fucked by someone, but still he knew it was going to be a stretch to fit all of Peter inside of him.

 

His staring doesn’t go unnoticed, because Peter shifts, hand coming down to circle around his cock almost by instinct. “We doin’ this or what?” He asks when Rocket looks up to meet his eyes, and the raccoons’ lips curl back into a sneer.

 

“Shut up,” Rocket says, once again glad Peter couldn’t see the flush on his cheeks because of his fur. He reaches for the lube this time, Peter had thrown it to the side in his haste to press his fingers inside of Rocket, something that the raccoon finds oddly pleasing, and squeezes a generous amount onto the palm of his hand before throwing it to the side again. It’s almost empty, Rocket notices far later, flushing at the realization that they had used that  much while fucking. “Gotta’ fucking lube ya’ up, Stardork.” He says, but hesitates slightly in actually reaching out and touching Peter’s dick. It shouldn’t be anything, considering he’s about to have the sandy blond inside of him, but still Rocket hesitates.

 

The flesh of Peter’s cock is a lot more heated than Rocket had expected, when he finally knocks away Peter’s and wraps his own small fingers around the sandy blond’s cock, paw not large enough to fit all the way around. It brings him immeasurable pleasure to watch Peter loll his head back against the wall, flicking his hips up into the feeling of Rocket’s fingers around him, a small sigh escaping the sandy blond’s lips. As Rocket generously spreads the lube across Peter’s dick he continues to watch the sandy blond’s face, taking in every low groan, and how his eyelids flutter when Rocket’s nail scratches along the vein on the underside of his heavy cock. In fact, he stays there just slowly jerking Peter off even once there’s more than enough lube on Peter’s erection by now.

 

“Rock-et,” Peter eventually groans, not even trying to hide how desperately he’s rolling his hips into Rocket’s fist by now. “Come on.” He surprises Rocket a little by opening his eyes to meet gazes, a small smirk finding its way across Peter’s pink lips. It’s infuriating, but a little hot how Peter will meet his eye even with his cock in Rocket’s small paw. Rolling his eyes Rocket let’s go, ignoring the little whimper Peter let’s out from loss of contact, even though it’s more than loud enough for his sensitive ears to pick up, and climbs backwards to sit on Peter’s lap, feeling the sandy blond’s cock slip between his ass cheeks.

 

Leaning forwards Rocket reaches underneath himself, clasping Peter’s cock in his hand, and guides it towards his hole. Behind him he hears Peter gasp when his erection catches on the rim of Rocket’s hole, and a low growl escapes Rocket’s when pulls back a little and tries again, this time successfully pressing the blunt head of Peter’s cock against his twitching entrance. Not another moment passes before Rocket’s pushing it inside of him, gritting his teeth against the stretch, against the burn, and is thankful when Peter reaches his hand around his front to wrap his hand around Rocket’s cock and slowly stroke to distract him a little. Still, Rocket’s never been a quitter, and he keeps pushing past the stretch until the head of Peter’s cock pops inside of him.

 

Rocket pauses for a mere second before he’s pushing his hips down further, trying to get Peter inside of him. The worst of the stretch is over, and so the rest of Peter’s cock slides inside of him easily, until Peter bottoms out and is balls deep inside of him. It’s only then when Rocket does pause for the first time, clenching around the thickness inside of him, growling pleasurably in his throat when Peter’s cock shifts inside of him, testing his size. Peter’s hand on him stills, becoming hesitant because of how long Rocket’s been still, and the raccoon growls again and uses legs to push himself up before slamming back down, surprising Peter. It still burns, but not enough to overpower the fire already coursing through Rocket’s veins.

 

The grip on Rocket’s hips would leave bruises under the raccoon’s fur, and would only ever be viewable if Rocket ever groomed through his fur. The fire in his veins is quickly turning to molten lava, and Rocket scrambles to lean backwards and place his hands-on Peter’s hips, digging his nails into the skin there. Because Peter’s still half by wearing his pants it causes friction between their thighs when they meet, meaning that Peter’s saved from the complete sharpness of his claws; mostly.

 

Just as he’s starting to pick a pace, and the stretch of Peter’s cock stops burning completely, Peter comes out of whatever stupor he had been in and flicks up into Rocket’s body,

 

“Fuck, Rocket,” Peter growls, quickly surpassing the pace that Rocket had created. “You’re so fuckin’ tight,” Because of the angle Rocket’s slumped in, almost leant back completely against Peter’s chest, he can fuck so much deeper into Rocket’s body, cock coming infuriatingly close to the raccoon’s prostate with every thrust but still not close enough. Growling Rocket tries to force his body down further, harder, meeting the upwards roll of Peter’s hips every time, clinging on tight. But still, it’s not quite there, and he’s becoming increasingly frustrated, growling and desperately throwing his hips down to try and get himself there.

 

Their pace is already fast enough, the clap when their bodies meet becoming louder and louder with every thrust, but it becomes clear to Rocket after being at the same pace for a good two minutes, that Peter was holding back for some reason. “Fuckin-“ Rocket starts, but stops suddenly when Peter pushes in a little bit deeper than before – god so _close._ “Oh fuck, Peter, _harder,_ I’m not gonna’ break.” To prove his point, he slams his hips down, both pleased and annoyed when it makes Peter’s hips stutter, and a promise of unbridled pleasure zings down his spine as the blunt head of Peter’s cock _just_ brushes his prostate.

 

It seems like Peter gets the point though, because in the next second it changes from Rocket seemingly doing all the work to him barely being able to keep up with the sudden power and ferocity of Peter’s thrusts. They’re so strong that Rocket almost falls right off of Peter’s lap, ignoring the huffed laugh that escapes Peter’s lips in favor for leaning back further just that little bit and –

 

“Fuck!” Rocket yells, head tipping back, lips curling into a smirk as white explodes in stars behind his eyes. Peter had hit his prostate head on, and Rocket writhes on Peter’s dick at the feeling of pleasure zinging through his veins, making him shudder and shake. “Oh, fucking shit, don’t you dare fuckin’ stop.” Rocket threatens, voice broken by every thrust of Peter’s hips but he’s working back down on Peter now, meeting every thrust dead on and absolutely growling at the pleasure it brings. It’s been ages since he’s been fucked this good, and by a humie no less, and Rocket was most definitely going to be sore in the morning.

 

A chuckle meets his ear, breath puffing against his fur. “Hey, Rock- et, look.”

 

Rocket groans, not wanting to take his attention away from continuing the rough pace Peter had started and, one that Rocket was most definitely not going to pussy out of, but opens his eyes and looks down without having to be asked. His eyes widen at the sight of his stomach bulging, worried for his life for a split second before he realized that it was because his body was so small, and that Peter was big enough for it to be causing Rocket’s stomach to bulge. The sight sets off a new tingle of pleasure throughout Rocket’s body, causing him to shudder in Peter’s lap as one eye slides shut but the other keeps watching the way his stomach protrudes obscenely with every thrust from Peter.

 

Slowly pressure had been growing in Rocket’s groin, and when his gaze momentarily dips Rocket can see how red his tapered member is becoming. And, embarrassingly enough, how his erection was beginning to swell at the bottom, his knot growing the more Peter pounded into him. At the start Rocket wasn’t sure how he was going to achieve a knot if Peter was the one inside of him, but this doesn’t seem to be a problem if the way Rocket’s cock was now swelling. Groaning at the idea of knotting while Peter was inside of him, Rocket returned his gaze to how his stomach was protruding, slightly fearful that he was going to cum too soon when he just wanted Peter to keep pounding into him like he was.

 

Peter lets out a shaky breath into his ear. “You’re getting tighter,” he puffs, sounding strained from the excursion as he was most of the thrusting power, not to mention the extra precision in making sure his thrust his Rocket’s prostate every time. “Are you gonna cum’ for me, Rocket?” There’s a little smugness in his voice that Rocket is so tempted, oh so tempted, to bite back at but the way Peter’s pushing into him is just fucking _right,_ and Rocket wasn’t sure he was going to last much longer. It’s slightly embarrassing, being able to cum like this, with just Peter’s cock up his ass and no other added stimulation, but Rocket’s almost too far gone to fucking care.

 

So, he just nods, and the “Fuck-“ that escapes his lips is so guttural it’s almost not English. The pressure getting too much now, making him squirm in Peter’s lap, his knot growing bigger and bigger, his orgasm coming closer and closer with every rough thrust of Peter’s hips. There’s sweat between his shoulder blades, and his legs are burning, chest heaving, and the lava in his veins keeps gaining temperature, but Rocket growls out, “Faster.” And is promptly surprised when one of Peter’s arms come across his naked chest, keeping the raccoon firmly pressed back against his chest, and effectively keeping him in the same place, as he somehow finds even more strength that before and thrusts into Rocket so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if Peter split him in half. A brief glance down confirms that the bulge of Peter’s cock through his stomach, is protruding even further with this sudden pick up of pace.

 

Rocket digs his nails in further, squirming as he lolls his head back to rest against Peter’s shoulder. One thrust and the lava in his veins bursts, two thrusts and the pressure suddenly bursts, three thrusts and Rocket’s knot swells to it’s full size, and on the fourth Peter hits his prostate dead on one more time and Rocket’s cumming. Because Peter’s holding him all he can do is writhe, pleasure coming in bursts from his crotch as he cums in long stripes all over his own chest. Out of his mouth comes a long stream of swear words, mixed and shuffled and at one point Peter’s name is thrown into the wind, as colors burst behind his eyes. In the back of his head Rocket’s sure he hears Peter swear, and feels hot cum splash against his insides, but he’s too busy riding out his orgasm and trying not to pass out from the sensory overload.

 

Maybe he did pass out, because when Rocket is conscience enough to open his eyes and talk and think, he’s lent back against Peter’s chest. Peter’s no longer holding onto him, in fact his body is relaxed where it rests against the wall, and Rocket goes to turn his upper half around only to have to reach out and grasp onto Peter when his entire body protests, not to mention he suddenly realizes that Peter’s soft cock is somehow still inside of him. It appears that Peter wasn’t as relaxed as Rocket thinks, because he suddenly starts and lets out a loud swear, hands going back to Rocket’s hips but that, in turn, makes the raccoon swear back as the sudden touch brings pain.

 

“Ok, ow, fuck, don’t move,” Peter says, his voice husky. At the time of his own orgasm Rocket wasn’t sure he had heard Peter call out, but how his voice sounds now is enough proof that he did. “Just lemme’-“ The two shift, swearing, and Peter takes the lead. With as much of a gentle grip on Rocket he could manage, the raccoon in turn trying his best not to recoil from the pain Peter’s touch bought, Peter lifted Rocket up and off of his own cock, both men sighing in relief when it’s finally pulled out with a wet ‘pop’. Rocket quickly takes reclaim of his own body, pushing Peter’s hands away to collapse on his hind quarters between Peter’s legs, aligned with the sandy blond’s knees, and tries not to move so that every muscle in his body stops protesting.

 

Rocket’s already got that itch that’s telling him to bail, never one to be comfortable with human contact for long even if that didn’t necessarily mean touching. Groaning he straightens up till he’s standing, pretending like he doesn’t put a hand on Peter’s knee to stop himself from falling when his knees buckle as soon as Rocket puts any pressure on them. Rocket tries really hard not to think about how he can feel Peter’s cum inside of him, and can feel it slowly escaping his abused entrance, no doubt making his fur clump together, and instead takes another step away from Peter. He needs the distance, because as soon as his the cloud sex left in his head lifted, Rocket’s conscious was screaming at him for going through with having sex with Peter. For other decisions Rocket would normally ignore it, but for this the raccoon was really going to go need think this all out; as much as he wished all of this didn’t change anything.

 

The silence stretches between them, and Rocket doesn’t have the guts to turn around and look at the expression on Peter’s face. “Uh,” Rocket starts, finally breaking the silence, and takes his hand off of Peter’s knee. “I’m gonna’ go get cleaned up. See ya’ later.” He doesn’t wait for Peter’s response, or, he just blocks out whatever Peter does say, and hurries for the door as fast as his aching bones will allow. He’s almost sure he sees Peter reach out just as Rocket goes through the door, the corridor before him seeming to stretch out forever, but Rocket just continues his escape; and ignores the strong ‘pang’ in his chest.

 

His room seems to be further away than Rocket remembers, or maybe just because every part of his lower body is screaming at him to stop, his heart seeming to make every step heavier. Eventually he does get there, thankful that he hadn’t passed anyone in the halls that would stop and question his quite obvious limping, and quickly presses the button that opens his door, scurrying inside as quickly as he could and immediately slumping back against the door once it’s closed. It’s then, and only then, that Rocket allows himself to scrub his paws over his eyes.

 

-

 

Rocket’s not sure how it happened but he wakes up in his bed. Groaning he blinks at the familiar surroundings and noting the absence of Groot, he must have bunked with Gamora or Mantis. As he sits up Rocket rubs at his eyes, but doesn’t expect the sudden twinge of pain in his lower back and hips that halt his movements. Fuck, how hard had Peter fucked him yesterday? It can’t have been _that_ hard, Peter was only human. Groaning low in his throat Rocket manages to sit up, and then slowly pushes himself off of his bed, staggering slightly when his paws hit the cold metal but he manages to stay upright by reaching out and grabbing onto his bed.

 

Everything was burning now. His lower back, his hips, his thighs, his stomach, his calves, his entrance, hell – even his insides faintly hurt. It hurt bad enough that Rocket almost found it impossible to make the short trip over to the mirror bolted to the wall, but kept low enough so that Rocket doesn’t have to climb just to see himself. Standing by himself, Rocket turns slightly to the left, hooking one paw into the loose waistband of his pants to expose more of his hips, and heat immediately flushes through him as he parts his fur and sees the unmistakably human finger shaped bruises on his skin. Further exploration only made Rocket’s temperate increase, as the bruises turn from purple to black to _yellow_ the further Rocket explores around his pelvic lines.

 

Ok, so maybe Rocket had underestimated how strong Peter was. In one movement Rocket drops his hands away from himself, takes one more fleeting look in the mirror, and heads towards his adjacent bathroom on shaky legs. It was too early in the morning to look at bruises that color, to stand there and think about how Peter’s fingers had felt as they dug into his skin. Oh no, Rocket was going to need a shower and _at least_ three cups of coffee before he even began to allow himself to process the bruises on his hips, and seek out Peter to have a very important talk.

 

At least his rut was gone, something Rocket only noticed while he was halfway through his shift in driving the Milano, the other Guardians tinkering around the ship doing their own things; and Rocket couldn’t help the sideways look he gives Peter when the sandy blond walks past, watching the lilt of his steps and the curve of his spine. So, Peter had broken his rut. Rocket didn’t see that coming.

 

-

 

‘The talk’ happens in the early hours of deep space morning, almost a week later. They had suddenly been thrown into a mission concerning a large, energy eating, behemoth that was inhabiting a planet far on the outer corner of the solar system, one that they just happened to be passing at the time the emergency transmission was sent out – the Milano being the ones who picked it up; and, consequently, Rocket’s and Peter’s talk was put on the sidelines until the mission was over and everyone could _kind of_ relax again.

 

Peter and Rocket had been put on watch for the night. Why they both needed to be there, Rocket had no idea, but he couldn’t help but suspect Gamora; she had probably picked up on the awkward tension between Rocket and Peter in the last week, the long looks, the permanent pink hue on Peter’s cheeks, the way that Rocket wouldn’t swear at Peter as much anymore, and how the two seemed to have just stopped fighting all together for no apparent reason. Really, it was probably so obvious that something _happened_ between Peter and Rocket that even Drax would be able to catch on.

 

And so, here they were. Rocket and Peter, staring into the expanse of space and trying desperately not to think about how close the other person was, how easy it would be to lean over and have another go at what happened mere weeks before; at least, that’s what Rocket was thinking, he had no idea what was going on in Peter’s head, but for the first time he kind of wished he did. Instead Rocket made a game of counting the stars surrounding them, an impossible feat seeing as there was a never ending quantity of the tiny cold lights, and when the stars all started blurring together Rocket just sat there and let his mind go. It probably wasn’t a good idea, because if he thought about what happened between him and Peter another uncomfortable situation was sure to arise, but there was nothing else for him to do.

 

Surprisingly, it’s Peter who speaks up first. “Rocket,” he says, startling the raccoon in question enough that he jumps slightly in his seat. Rocket’s ears cock towards peter, but he refuses to actually look at the sandy blond, instead staring down at his lap. “I think we probably need to talk about what happened a week ago.” Even Peter sounds like he doesn’t actually want to talk about it, despite his words; which, kind of made Rocket feel a little bit better.

 

Rocket lets out a long breath, turning his head to give Peter a sly look. “I remember what happened last time we had a ‘talk’,” he teases, lip curling back into a smirk, but before the sandy blond could retort Rocket’s opening his mouth again, turning his head to look forwards into deep space rather than having to look at Peter. “Ah hell, we’re not doing anything anyway,” And then, when Peter doesn’t reply fast enough. “Hurry the fuck up, Quill.” He wanted to talk too, but he didn’t want to tell Peter that, and if the sandy blond wanted to start then Rocket wasn’t going to stop him.

 

“Yeah uh – so, we had sex,” Peter says a little too fast, and Rocket doesn’t have to look to know there’s a pink flush over Peter’s cheeks. “And I was just, sorta, wanting to check that you aren’t freaking out because of it, and checking that we were still okay- ish. Well, more OK then when we were fighting.” Peter’s stumbling over his words, something he only does when he’s _really_ embarrassed or flustered, which was not something that happened often and only a few of the other Guardians had seen him like that. What really got Rocket, once he got past the whole Peter sounding flustered thing, is that Peter was checking up on him, checking up on their friendship to make sure that they hadn’t royally fucked up, and it sets off a warm feeling in Rocket’s chest.

 

Scratching behind his ear, Rocket purposely doesn’t look at Peter and instead turns to look out the window to the side. He’s perfectly aware that there’s no way for Peter to see his faint flush, but Rocket still keeps his head looking away from Peter. Usually, he would be beyond angered if someone said he was freaking out, because it usually meant that he was _scared_ – something Rocket never was, but he let it slide. Pausing for a couple of seconds, Rocket tries to come up with something more to say than just an affirmation, but his throat feels dry and his tongue keeps sticking to the roof of his mouth. “Yeah, we’re cool, Peter.”

 

Peter lets out this little half huff, half laugh that’s all too easy for Rocket’s sensitive ears to pick up, hating how it makes that warm feeling that had started in his heart spread out throughout his chest. Peter sounds so pleased that they’re fine, that they’re happy, and that they won’t be fighting any more – or at least, they can hope that they won’t keep fighting, Rocket can hope that they won’t keep fighting – at least not as much as they used too, that the fighting will be toned down. Slyly Rocket turns his head forwards, and uses his peripherals to see if Peter had the same stupid smile on his face Rocket thought – oh, yup, goddamnit there it was, that stupid fucking half smile that Peter wore when he didn’t think people were watching him, a mix between content and happy and just a little smug.

 

God, there was no way Rocket was sober enough for this. “Did you wanna’ do it again sometime?” he asks, purposely making himself sound aloof, like he didn’t care, flicking his gaze between his lap and out into deep space. Peter lets out this half gasp, surprised, and Rocket turns his head to find Peter staring at him with wide eyes. “I mean,” Rocket immediately backtracks, trying to get him out of the whole he’s just dug himself. God he’s so stupid to think that Peter would want to have sex with him again, who would want to have sex with a cybernetically enhanced raccoon?

 

“It was jus’ a suggestion, if you don’t wanna’ then I don’t fuckin’ care, I just –“

 

Peter lets out that half huff again. “Rocket, shut up,” he says, and Rocket hates that he complies, turning his head to look at Peter. Rocket’s heart is beating kind of fast as he tracks Peter’s facial expressions, trying to figure out what Peter was thinking, or what he’s going to say next. He doesn’t have to wait long.

 

“I'd be up for having sex with you again.”

 

Rocket’s entire body flushes with heat, heart beating entirely too fast now, so fast that Rocket’s half by afraid he’s going to die of shock. Of course, on the outside he just nods, shrugging his shoulders and pretending like he didn’t care what Peter’s answer was going to be, like he doesn’t care that Peter had just agreed to have sex with some fucked up raccoon. He looks away again, hiding the small smile that threatens to give what he’s really thinking away, and pretends to be studying deep space.

 

Settling back in his chair, Rocket raises his arms to bring his hands behind his head. “Cool,” He says nonchalantly. “Deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> Congrats, you made it to the end of this filth. Thank you so much for reading, please leave a KUDOS and a COMMENT if you'd like, you don't have too of course but it's deeply appreciated! I might write more of this pairing in the future, but I can't promise it. 
> 
> Tumblr: https://2kitsuneao3.tumblr.com/


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